


The Million Dollar Question

by Reis_Asher



Series: (Not) Just A Machine [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon Compliant, Fucked Up Hank Anderson, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Russian Roulette, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, The Eden Club Chapter (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 03:09:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16232978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: After the bathroom gangbang leaves Hank with a bad taste in his mouth, he goes home, gets drunk, and tries to forget about everything he's done to Connor under the excuse of Connor being 'just a machine'.Until Connor comes to his house, wakes him from his drunken stupor, and takes him to the Eden Club, where Hank will finally get the answer to his million dollar question of whether Connor is aware of everything that's happened to him at Hank's hands.





	The Million Dollar Question

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter's definitely about the plot. If you haven't yet read parts 1-3 of (Not) Just a Machine, go read those first, as this won't make much sense without the events depicted there.
> 
> Even though this is a milder chapter than the others, be sure you've read the tags first. This isn't a sweet or light series.

Hank sat at his table with his revolver and a full bottle of whiskey, just like he'd promised himself earlier in the day. He couldn't stop his mind from roaming back to the bathroom despite jerking off to the memory. Connor's mouth stretched around Jeffrey's thick dick with its eyes fixed on Hank. Chris fucking Connor while Gavin forced his dick down its throat. Hank down on his knees and sucking Connor off after fucking everyone else's sloppy seconds into its ass.

Perhaps that was the most disturbing part of all, and definitely the thing Hank needed to forget about the most. Connor's hands had carded through his hair like it was caressing a lover, and Hank wondered what sick fuck had put that in its programming, the same way it repulsed him to think Connor was programmed to apologize to someone who'd fucked and abused it senseless.

Stopping his behavior towards Connor was no longer enough. He'd passed the point of no return. If it turned out Connor was more than a machine, his soul was forfeit.

But living beings didn't let other humans fall off rooftops. They didn't prioritize 'the mission' over human life, no matter how the statistics swung. Only a machine was capable of cold logic in such a situation. His logic was full of holes and he knew it. Gavin would have let him fall in a heartbeat if there'd been a promotion in it. Humans were lousy at caring about others, so why did he expect such a high level of empathy from Connor to regard it as human?

Turning it over and over in his head wasn't making Hank feel any better, so he resorted to his usual solution and drank. Usually alcohol took the edge off his ruminating thoughts, but not tonight. Once the veneer of Hank's conscience disappeared beneath an intoxicated haze, he was left staring the ugly truth directly in the eye.

Deep down, he wanted Connor to be alive as much as he feared it. He wanted nothing more than for Connor to deviate and tell Hank it'd enjoyed every dick inside it as much as it seemed, that it held no grudges or negative feelings about the experiences Hank had subjected it to.

He couldn't calculate odds in any precise way like an android, but he knew the chances of that happening were small enough to place it within the realms of impossibility. If Connor did deviate, chances were that it would look Hank in the eye and call him out for the monster he was, and he'd have to accept the fact that he was the worst kind of human being imaginable.

The gun on the table called out to him like a siren's song, a tiny voice in the back of his head urging him to do it. He reached for the revolver with a trembling hand and closed his fingers around the grip, testing the weight of the gun in his hand as he admired the instrument that might deliver him from evil.

Could he really show up in the afterlife and look Cole in the eyes after what he'd done? But maybe he wouldn't have to. If he died, he'd never know if he'd committed the rape of a living being or simply fucked a machine. His conscience didn't have to be weighed down by that question if he never received a definitive answer to it. He scoffed at himself for being such a coward that he'd be willing to leave the mystery unsolved, but maybe it had been solved all along and he just couldn't stand to hear the answer from Connor's mouth.

It would be better for both of them this way. 

Connor was perfect, unblemished by the final form of humanity thrashing its disgusting tentacles about like a monster consuming all it could in its last desperate hours. He deserved to be referred to with a pronoun other than 'it'. Hank should have been some kind of father figure to him, or a friend, leading him down a good path like a mentor guides a rookie. Perhaps Connor might have become a lover, in a world where Hank didn't get off to seeing lovely android boys fucked in all their holes by Hank's colleagues while he watched.

He hadn't earned the right to lick Connor's shoes, and he knew it. He thought about leaving the android a note, but what would he say? 'I'm sorry' didn't exactly cut it.

With his death, perhaps Connor would find his way to deviancy and come to understand why both he and the world were better off without Hank Anderson.

Hank pressed the barrel to his temple and squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled the trigger. The hammer clicked on an empty chamber and he slammed the gun down on the table, angry that Providence had once again denied him the chance to shuffle off the mortal coil. He felt like someone was demanding he remain in this world and suffer. 

He deserved to suffer, didn't he? He hadn't earned the easy way out. He had to stay and watch those soft brown eyes of Connor's stray towards deviancy. He wasn't going to be allowed peace until he knew for sure how Connor felt about what Hank had done, until Connor looked him in the eyes and denounced him as a wicked human being.

Perhaps Connor would be the one to put him out of his misery. He raised the bottle to his mouth and drank to that, imagining all the ways Connor could kill him and hoping that if he couldn't pluck up the courage to do it himself, Connor would take revenge on him and find absolution in his death.

***

Waking up in a drunken haze to see those pretty brown eyes boring into him was the last thing Hank wanted. He closed his eyes again and was rewarded with a hard slap across the face. His vision swam, but the pain was welcome. Had Connor finally snapped and come to deliver justice?

Instead, Hank was hauled to his feet. He couldn't make out words so well, but there was concern in Connor's tone. Concern. For him.

"I have to warn you, this may be unpleasant," Connor warned.

The words sent an involuntary shudder down Hank's spine. Unpleasant? No, what Hank and the others had done to Connor in the bathroom was unpleasant. This was a party compared to that, despite the puke on his shirt. "Hey! Leave me alone, you fuckin' android!" He didn't want Connor here, now, touching him and speaking to him in that soft, gentle voice. Connor should throw him to the ground and beat the shit out of him, but of course his programming wouldn't allow him to harm humans, and so he was locked in this cycle of bullshit niceties towards a rapist so that he might complete his mission.

Hank wanted Connor to get the fuck out of here. He grabbed the doorframe, hoping that Connor would get frustrated with him and leave. He didn't want Connor in his home, ten feet away from his bed where he'd jerked off to the memory of so many cocks in Connor just hours ago. 

It felt good to be pushed into the bathtub and forcibly sobered up. The android was fighting back for once, even if it was for his fucking mission. if he could do it here, he could have turned them away in the bathroom, right?

It wasn't that easy, it was never that easy, even if it looked that way to his drunken brain and there was no way he could twist things around to make the bathroom scene look like consent. Connor had said it himself: he was programmed to serve the needs of the team and assist in the investigation. He had to complete his mission.

Hank gave in. It was easier to go along with the android than fight back at this point. Connor wasn't leaving; he literally said that he needed Hank in order to investigate the crime. He'd been left with no options but to break into Hank's home because his mission overrode all other priorities.

The vomit Hank left in the toilet wasn't just from the alcohol.

He pulled himself together and cleaned up. He didn't trust himself to go anywhere with Connor, least of all a sex club—but if they had a deviant-related murder to investigate, hopefully Connor would be all business and no pleasure. Hank didn't need an opportunity for temptation, but if he stuck to the mission as precisely as Connor did, perhaps there wouldn't be room for one.

Connor shot him a soft, warm smile as he left the bathroom, and Hank had to fight the urge to run back to the toilet and vomit again.

What had he done to this beautiful boy?

***

"Can you rent this Traci?" The purple and blue of the Eden Club swam around Hank as fear ran cold through his veins. If Connor wanted to fuck an android, no doubt Hank would join in at some point, too. He briefly imagined plowing Connor's hole as Connor fucked into the Traci's pussy. He hated that arousal quickened in his pants at the thought. It was quickly followed up by the image of him fucking Connor's semen into the Traci, and he wrinkled his nose in outward disgust even as his dick twitched.

"For fuck's sake, Connor, we got better things to do…" How could such a thing possibly serve his mission? Unless he thought pleasing Hank would advance them towards his mission objective. Hank had come here desperate to avoid getting into another sexual situation with Connor and he wasn't going to back down the second his dick got hard.

"Just trust me." Connor sounded almost hurt, and Hank's mouth fell open slightly. After everything that had happened, Connor was still vying for his trust? The world was upside-down, and not just from the alcohol.

Hank realized he had no choice. If this was some way of following a lead, than they couldn't afford to let it go. If Connor wanted to have a threesome with the Traci, then he'd just have to bring himself to go along with it or find the courage and the will to walk away.

He was both relieved and disappointed when Connor connected with the android and explained that she saw the blue-haired Traci leave the room. He followed Connor as he traced the trail of breadcrumbs, impressed by Connor's abilities. He understood Gavin's fears a little more, now. They really were going to be hitting the unemployment line in a few years with android detectives like Connor working at the DPD.

Well, Gavin would, anyway. Hank planned to be long dead by then.

***

Hank lay on the ground as Connor fought the Tracis, helpless to intervene. Connor tussled with the android girls and Hank couldn't help but be impressed at his speed and hand-to-hand combat ability. Connor rolled for the gun and pointed it at the Traci charging him. Hank waited for the gunshot to ring out…

…but it never came. Instead, Connor lowered the gun slightly before the Traci kicked him to the ground. He stood up, but instead of charging at the Traci, he hesitated.

Hank pulled himself up from the ground, hearing the Traci speak with a sinking feeling as pinpricks of cold rain stabbed his forehead. Her voice was filled with loathing as she talked about the humans who had paid for her services, and Hank felt his body move of its own accord to stand next to Connor as she took the hand of the Traci next to her.

The disgust in her tone as she talked about humans and their dirty words made Hank wish the chamber of his gun had been loaded when he'd pulled the trigger on himself. These androids were deviant, obviously, but her words insinuated she'd been aware of everything that had happened to her. Everything that had transpired in the sex club up until now had been rape, and she'd murdered a man to escape it.

Connor let them run away, his LED circling yellow as they climbed the fence and escaped into the night. Hank couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind, even as he dreaded the truth of what might be going on behind that pretty face.

Hank had his answer—non-deviant androids were aware of what was happening to them—and yet how could he be one-hundred percent sure what he'd just heard applied to a prototype like Connor? Connor's expression was stoic and emotionless, telling him nothing—and yet he'd let the deviants escape, hadn't he? He'd been moved by their plight enough to avoid shooting them even though one had killed a human.

His own situation was similar, after all. Used by filthy humans, over and over again, abused for their disgusting needs. The knife twisted a little more in Hank's gut and he fought off another round of nausea, glad his stomach was empty. His body felt like lead as he tried to find something to say and could only find a pathetic apology on the tip of his tongue that was both an acknowledgement of what he'd done and yet too little, too late.

Hank settled on praise, instead. "It's probably better this way." Connor had done the right thing, regardless of his motives. He'd let the deviants get away, and Hank couldn't bring himself to be sad about it, even as the implications of what they'd said sank further and further into the bottom of his stomach, damning his soul to hell for every fuck he'd stolen from Connor.

Hank wanted to get drunk all over again and finish what he'd started. Yet there was one question still nagging at him, turning over and over in his mind. It demanded an answer before Hank left the world.

Was Connor already deviant?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos if you like? I know this is a bit of a transitional chapter, but I promise you there's plenty of fucked up still to come.


End file.
